Stress Relief
by Lucreace
Summary: The new Potions Master receives a lesson in stress relief from a colleague


Severus flopped down behind the staff table in the great hall with a sigh. This was not where he wanted to be, nor what he wanted to be doing. There was nothing worse than being stuck at the front of a classroom in front of those who had so recently been his peers. A deep shudder ran through him and he brushed dark hair from his head. The other professors had been less than warm when it was announced that he was joining the staff. Now, even though he was seated between Flitwick and McGonagall, the gulf between them was far vaster than between the other professors.

He told himself it didn't matter, that their opinions of him didn't count but he knew that was untrue. Although he put on his best front, acted indifferent to their stares, their sidelong glances and the whispering behind their hands was crippling. The only one who spoke to him was Dumbledore and even that came begrudgingly.

He sat silently nursing a glass of wine and stared at the half full plate in front of him. He'd not felt the call to eat anything since he returned; merely did so to stop anyone complaining about it. Flitwick vacated his seat in favour of finding better company. He knew he should go; there was nothing here for him really. He had a bunch of jobs to perform before the first day of term tomorrow. As he made to move however, he found that Flitwick's seat had been occupied by Septima Vector.

"You know, if you spent less time sulking they'd be a little more accepting of you," she said as she picked up her glass.

"What do you know about it?" he hissed, not wanting to engage the woman in conversation at all.

"More than you think," she said.

He drained his glass and stood up. "Good evening then."

"I have something stronger in my office," she said as she drained her own glass. "Why don't you join me and we'll spend the evening whining about tomorrow."

It seemed like a good idea and he had no real reason to not do it. Those jobs could wait so he nodded his acceptance and she stood. It was then that he noticed how small she was. She barely reached his shoulder and he wasn't exactly a giant. He looked down at her dark hair and caught the hint of a smile in her cool blue eyes. She strode forward, not speaking at all until they reached her office. As soon as it was unlocked and unwarded, she ushered him in and slammed the door behind them, locking it once more. He crammed himself into the seat opposite her desk as she fetched them both glasses and a bottle of fire whiskey to share.

She flicked her hair back as she poured them both a strong measure. Nudging one towards him, she picked up her own and twisted it in her hands, "You know what bugs me the most?" she said. He shook his head, not entirely interested in her answer but unable to remain silent, she'd provided him with a drink after all. "The crap the students will start complaining about almost straight away." Her bright blue eyes caught his and he tilted his head to the side, curious despite himself. "You'll find this in a week or so. They complain about everything, like having to make their own beds and that the food isn't decent and that we give them too much homework," she said. She threw the small glass back before refilling it with a small shake of her head. "Do they expect us to be their mothers too?"

"I hope not," he snorted. He drained his own glass, comforted by the warmth that spread in his stomach. She nudged the bottle towards him and he refilled his glass with a nod of thanks. She gave him a conspiratorial look and he nodded, "I'm not looking forward to the older students," he said before he could stop himself. Damn it, he was supposed to be stronger than that. However, instead of laughing at him, like he expected, she merely nodded.

"Some of them were your friends weren't they? Before you left."

"Some of them were friends of Potter," he corrected. She nodded then, clearly aware of the implications of his words.

"I've no doubt you'll be a fine teacher," she said. When he snorted, she raised a brow and placed her now empty glass on the table, "You just need to relax a little; children are very good at sensing the mood of their teacher, if you're tense and nervous, they'll know you're not in control and act accordingly."

He looked down at the glass in his lap and let out a breath. How on earth was he going to relax when he really had no idea how he was going to teach these children? They'd be climbing up the walls and throwing Merlin knows what into the cauldrons. He'd have to buy a whole host of new ones by the end of the week, if he still had a job that was. What if he failed to protect a student, like he had failed to protect her? The urge to bury his face in his hands was almost too much when he felt cool hands press onto his shoulders.

All thought ceased as those slender fingers of hers pressed into his tense back and began easing the stress away, "Do try to relax Severus," she said.

"Easier spoken of than done," he replied. However, as her fingers began to work on his nape, he let out a sigh. He fell silent, savouring the touch of someone else. The first person to lay a hand on him for as long as he could remember, someone that didn't wish him harm at least! The sensations sent delightful little tingle down his spine and without realising it, he let his head fall forward.

"That's the idea." Septima's voice was soothing as she worked her way down his neck and back along his shoulders, "I'm going to do this until you relax completely," she whispered. He gave a small grunt in acknowledgement and found himself give over to her. Ordinarily, he would wonder what it was she wanted in return. He had nothing to give of course; he had so little left of anything; why else would he be here if he had other places to be?

Her fingertips were a delight, they seemed to be able to seek out the places that were tight and force them into submission. His eyes grew heavy and he let out another sigh, "I never thought I would have you purring in my hands so quickly," she said. He raised his head and an eyebrow and looked over his shoulder into her eyes.

"I am not purring," he said.

She chuckled, low in her throat. The sound echoed around the room and he felt the tug of a smile pull at the corner of his mouth. "Smiling too! Well now that is a treat," she added.

"I'm doing no such thing," he made himself frown, slip back into the default expression before she could say anything else, "Wait… What do you mean?" She made an innocent face at him and he raised both brows this time. Her hand curled up into his black hair, teasing the fine hair at the base of his neck. Now that was a development. The tingle turned into a thrum and not a bad one at that. She must have noticed his reaction by the smirk that crept onto her face.

"Does that feel good hmm?" she asked.

"You already know the answer to that," he replied. She didn't stop and his eyes drifted closed. Presently, one of her hands found his and he was tugged into a sitting position. The warmth of the fire whiskey and the tingle of her touch made him more compliant that he would normally be. He realised he didn't have the strength to fight her and so let her lead him to the couch. Wordlessly, she made him sit and began undoing the multitude of buttons at the front of his frock coat. After she pulled it from his shoulders, she placed it over the wing chair opposite and began on his white shirt. "What is this?" he asked, unable to keep the amusement from his voice.

"I'm going to get you to relax if it takes me all night." Septima said. A large smile appeared on her face and she tugged the shirt of out his trousers. He tugged the buttons undone and she soon had the offending garment on the wingchair with his coat. Her cool hand pushed him so he was face down on the couch and she touched her fingers to his back. A sharp hiss of breath as she saw his latticework of scars made him close his eyes. Maybe this was a bad idea… He made to sit up but she held him in place, forcing him to relax against the soft cushions.

When her hands connected with his back again, they were warm and coated with some fragranced oil. She left his shoulders alone for the most part, focusing on the parts she couldn't reach when he had been sitting. The soothing sensation was like nothing he'd ever experienced before. The tenderness of her fingers soothed away his worries and doubts for the following day. At the moment, the only thing that mattered was the sensation of her hands upon his back.

"You're purring again," she whispered. This time, he didn't have the willpower to respond, merely nodded a little as she continued to work down his spine. The only sound he could hear was the shallow popping and crackle of the fire, further soothing his mind. It had been an age since his mind had been so clear of thoughts and he sighed as her fingers stopped their magic. He lay there for a long moment, just breathing, his mind completely blank.

"Thank you," he whispered eventually.

"Turn over."

"What?"

"Turn over Severus," she repeated. Her voice was playful and a smirk crossed his face before he did what he was told. Septima moved to perch on the edge of the couch and began running her soft hands over his sensitive stomach, "You're not as scrawny as I thought," she mused as she thrust her hand through the fine hair on his chest.

"What are you doing Septima?" he asked. Not that he objected, far from it, her cool hand was pleasant on his chest and truth be told, he was enjoying the attention. She didn't answer at first, nor did she meet his eyes for a moment. When she did, they were almost twinkling.

"I like to see it as stress relief." She leaned her head forward and smiled. Her hand curled up to his shoulder and this time, he did smile. It didn't have time to blossom into true mirth however because she chose that moment to press her mouth against his. For a moment, he was stunned. Unable to think, breathe even as her soft lips moved over his. His hands came up to her shoulders and he was caught between forcing her away and deepening the kiss. She took the decision from him however when her tongue probed his lips.

A slight gasp and she dove into his mouth, curling her tongue around his with a subtle moan. She tasted of cinnamon and fire; a heady flavour that made him crave more. He pushed his hands into her straight hair, cradled the nape of her neck and began to work with her. Her tongue was surprisingly mobile, it was amazing how good it felt to chase after it, back and forth between their mouths as though there wasn't a care in the world. The way she moved send sparks down his spine, pooling in his groin. He felt himself twitch as she curled into his mouth.

When they broke apart, her breathing was as ragged as his and her pupils had dilated. "If I'd have known you were that good at kissing, I'd have made a move sooner," she whispered as she leaned her forehead against his.

"And what makes you think I would be so receptive?" he asked softly. Her hand caught his chin again and she hovered just over his lips, flicking her tongue along them but denying him contact. When he tried to move forward, she'd pull away, "Tease," he whispered. She made a murmur of acknowledgement before claiming his mouth once more.

This time, his hands gripped her waist and he lifted her onto his lap. She was lighter than he thought she could be but the way she settled on him was divine. Their mouths remained in contact with each other as they shifted. Her hips ground against his, her hands resting on his chest. His hand curled up to cup her breast through her shirt and she moaned an approval. His other hand yanked it out of her skirt and began working on the buttons.

Slowly, she worked it over her head and let it slide to the floor. Underneath, she wore a simple black bra. He brought his hands up and undid the clasp, not one handed but the fabric fell away. A slight gasp fell from his lips as his thumb brushed over her nipple. Her skin was so soft and the way she wiggled on his crotch told him he was having an effect on her. She broke their kiss and leaned back, grinding against him. He winced, the tightness of his trousers was too much as she rubbed him through the fabric.

"What's the matter Severus?" she cooed. He raised his hips into hers and she smirked. His eyes widened as her hand curled behind her and caressed his balls beneath the fabric. A noise, somewhere between a sigh and a moan, escaped his lips.

"Merlin woman!" he hissed as his erection jumped.

"My question is 'Why are we still clothed?'" she tilted her head to the side. Her eyes roamed freely over his body and he felt a flush creep onto his cheeks. "Not so sullen now are we." She said as her hands crept to his belt and began unfastening it. He seized her wrists in his hands and stopped her working. Tilting his legs, he deposited her on the rug and stood, fumbling with his belt, he loosened it and let his trousers and pants slide to the floor. Feeling a little self-conscious, he watched her instead of focusing on his own nakedness. He knew he wasn't much to look at but she seemed to like him.

Septima on the other hand was magnificent. Her legs, though not long, were perfect, shapely and rounded. Her thighs sloped upwards to her hips, which curved softly into her narrow waist. Her belly was flat and her breasts full. Her straight hair fell over her shoulders and she met his eyes with a grin. "Get back on the couch," she ordered. He had no will left to resist her. When he sank down, she straddled his legs, facing him, her hand reached forward and touched his hard length. His eyes rolled back in his head as she slowly began moving it down his shaft, "Eager are we?" she smirked.

He reached a hand to her breast, pinched the nipple until it was taut before sliding it down her belly and into the forest of curls beneath. Sliding a long finger into them, he found her in a similar state of arousal to him. "About as eager as you are," he replied. She slipped forward as he probed her slick wetness, supressing a groan as she did.

"I want to feel you," she whispered as she lifted her hips. Her words sent a shiver through him and he gripped her hips with his hands. Her hand settled of the base of his twitching cock and she positioned him at her entrance. He groaned as she lowered herself onto him, as she settled around his length, he resisted the urge to start thrusting insanely inside her. She felt so warm, so wet, so unbelievably… good.

Her mouth found his and she pinned him in a searing kiss before she began moving once more. Merlin! Tight, she was so tight. Red flooded his vision as she rose and sank in the slowest, most measured pace he had ever encountered. "How's that feel?" she whispered.

"Good, it's… Merlin!" he hissed as she clenched around him. A chuckle left her lips.

"Feel free to move with me." That was all the instruction he needed. Lifting his hips in time to meet her sent bright yellow sparks through him, flowing through his body until they came to focus on his tip. His lips parted and he sucked in a rough breath, trying to match her increasing strokes. Her breath puffed onto his cheek, her hair tickled his bare chest and her hands moved to pinch one of his nipples.

"Gods," he hissed as the pleasure increased. He gripped her hips and began moving swiftly. She met him with a fixed look, bit down on her lip and matched his pace. One hand tugged his, encouraging him to touch the sensitive nub of her clit as she moved. Her gasp as he did so nearly had him unravel right there. Yellow flashed from deep to white and his balls clenched. "I'm going to come…" he whispered.

"I know," she replied, not slowing her movements at all. Her head threw back and she let out a guttural cry. She fluttered around his length, clenched and twisted, relaxed and contorted over and over again. It was too much. His world narrowed until the only thing in it was the sensation around his cock. A final squeeze, a single thrust and he came apart. Spilling deep inside her, he issued an incoherent cry. His fingers dug into her hips and his head rolled back.

He didn't know how long he'd been unaware of anything, it could have been a few seconds, it could have been a lifetime. When he looked up into her blue eyes, she was panting still, a wicked grin on her face. He brushed sweaty hair back from his forehead and shifted a little, slipping from her. A smirk crossed her pretty face. "What?" he asked.

"How's that for stress relief?" she said as she climbed off his lap and sank beside him. He curled an arm around her shoulder lightly, drawing small circles on her skin.

"I think it's a therapy I can get behind," he replied softly, his voice a mere whisper. She patted his arm before rising. She grabbed her shirt and transfigured it into a dressing gown. Throwing his coat at him, she urged him to put it on before she fetched the bottle from her desk and the two glasses.

"Drink?" He gave a nod, knowing that the next day wouldn't be half as stressful as he thought it would.


End file.
